SpiderManBatman Part 1: Strange
by momoKING
Summary: The first part of what I hope will be yet another hit.


SPIDER-MAN

BATMAN

THE TUMULTUOUS TWELVE

Prologue

"Bats!" Spider-Man called. Batman remained still, barely breathing.

"Bats you gotta wake up," Spider-Man repeated.

Slowly Batman stirred. With effort, his eyes fluttered open. Spider-Man smiled—his entire mouth and chin visible through his half torn mask.

"There he is!"

He helped Batman to his feet. The disgruntled hero observed himself and found he was rather the worse for wear: his costume was torn in several places, his cape in tatters, and the ears of his cowl had been chipped. They were surrounded by fire and piles of debris; overturned cars, toppled statues, and tons of brick and mortar littered the streets.

"My armor," Batman said, looking at himself with disdain.

"What about it? You look great." Spider-Man gave him an encouraging tap on the shoulder.

"And I _feel_ like someone was beating my chest with a cinderblock. What—?"

Then they were interrupted by a massive roar, and twelve sinister figures approached over the horizon, their silhouettes stark black against the flames.

"Oh. Right." Batman bent into his fighting stance. "That."

One

Norman Osborn burned through head shrinks like toilet paper. And that's how he treated them too; like they were only there to clean up his mess. So many of the finest psycho-analysts and psychologists had been assigned to him and had come so close to losing their own minds that they just gave up. Despite the fact that he was significantly mentally unhinged, he was quite capable of mind gaming the doctors just as equally, turning their questions back on them and twisting their words. In the beginning, he had hoped that sooner or later they'd just stop trying. But of course, they just kept bringing in new guys. So, eventually, he came to enjoy their efforts. They were cute, harmless. They meant nothing. They couldn't change him.

The doctor they brought in this time was, by all outward appearance, just another head shrink. He was a bit bigger than the others, but he wore round spectacles and an expensive suit just like they all did. His bald head was polished to perfection, and his thick black beard looked like a small animal dwelling on his chin. There was just one uncanny thing about him; his smile. It carried a deep malice behind it.

Anyway, they brought Osborn into the evaluation room, as usual. They told the doctor they'd be right outside, as usual. The doctor offered him a beverage; tea or coffee, as usual. Anything stronger would set Osborn off. Or at least, that's what protocol dictated.

"Mr. Strange, is it?" Norman asked. "I'm delighted to meet you."

"Oh, well. Pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Osborn," the doctor said. He shook Osborn's outstretched hand. "And please, call me Hugo." He sat down into his comfortable armchair and proceeded to sip his tea: Chamomile by the smell of it.

Norman giggled. "Hugo Strange. An interesting name."

Hugo lifted an eyebrow in fictitious interest from behind his teacup. "What's so interesting about it?"

"Well, nothing. Just sounds a bit…heh…strange!"

Hugo's eyes crinkled from behind his tinted glasses but he didn't smile.

"Well, isn't Norman Osborn a bit of a weird name as well?"

Norman was taken aback. "It is _not_!"

"Are you sure? I don't think I know any other _Normans_."

"It is a perfectly reasonable and highly attractive name!" Norman growled. Hugo chuckled deeply.

"Alright, alright." He took another sip of tea. "Well what about 'Green Goblin'? That's a weird name too, right?"

Norman's eyes widened. He suddenly broke into an intense sweat.

"We don't need to talk about that," he said softly. His eyes had drifted from the doctor and were focused on the floor.

"Oh but we do," Strange said, putting down his cup and leaning forward, trying to regain eye contact. "You can't get better if we don't talk about him."

"'Him.'"

"Hm?"

"You said 'him'. Like it's an actual thing."

"Isn't it?"

"No!" Norman shot up out of his seat. "Of course not, silly!" He began to laugh hysterically.

Hugo tilted his head. "I don't understand."

"The Goblin's not just one guy with a costume and some explosive gadgets!" Norman said after regaining his breath. "It's an idea! A concept! A frame of mind!"

Hugo's lips twitched and his smile crept back onto his face, happy to be seen again. "Indeed."

Suddenly Norman gasped and covered his mouth. "I've said too much." He plopped back down onto the seat.

"No, no, my good man. On the contrary. You've hardly said enough."

"I won't talk about it anymore."

"Oh I think you will…"

Strange pressed a button on his suit, and the chair in which Osborn was sitting suddenly sprouted metallic bondages. They clamped down on his ankles, wrists, chest, and forehead. Struggle as he might, even with all his considerably enhanced strength, he couldn't break free. He tried to scream but he realized he was unable to. It was as if his vocal chords had been shut off.

Strange walked towards him holding a large syringe filled with a luminescent blue liquid.

"You're going to talk about him whether you'd like to or not, Mr. Osborn."

With that, he inserted the needle into Norman's neck. It sent a white hot shock up his brain, and then the world went black, silent but for the sound of Strange's laughter.


End file.
